


Together

by Crystalessences



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Little bit of smut, Unplanned Pregnancy, little bit of angst and anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:22:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29975940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystalessences/pseuds/Crystalessences
Summary: Wolffe x fem!readerYou're not quite sure how you're going to break your unexpected news to Wolffe.--request on tumblr"Reader tries to hide that she hasn't been feeling well and turns out she's pregnant? With twins! She's scared because even though they're committed, it wasn't planned?"
Relationships: CC-3636 | Wolffe/Reader, CC-3636 | Wolffe/You
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: explicit sexual content, unprotected p in v sex, unplanned pregnancy, swearing

There was never enough time. You really should not have been surprised by the revelation, you were at war, but it still sat heavy on your chest. Always needed elsewhere as soon as you completed a mission. Never time to rest, even in transit. Someone always needed your attention for reports, strategic planning or council meetings as the GAR cruiser hurtled through hyperspace. It never left you enough time for him. Thankfully, the stubborn nature of your clone commander allowed him to make time, even if just a spare moment, for the two of you.

“Oh fuck,” you throw your head back against the door as he reaches that spot deep inside you. Pushing you ever closer to the edge. “Wolffe, please-” you’re whining as he grinds up into you, throbbing inside you. He’s always had the uncanny ability to read your body, he knows better than you when you’re close to bliss and he enjoys drawing it out. To think Commander Wolffe was a fucking tease.

“Please what, cyare?” His smug grin slides across your chest following the trail of marks he’s littered across your skin where no one will see. “What does ner jetii need?”

“Please, ‘m so close,” you tighten your legs around his waist, trying to draw him in closer, anything to reach your release, “please, Wolffe!”

He groans into your neck as you tug at the curls fallen loose at the nape of his neck, “well when you ask so nicely, cyare.”

His sudden thrust up pushes the air from your lungs. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as he pounds into you, all teasing forgotten. He’s relentless as you tighten around him, the coil in your belly threatening to snap.

“That’s it,” he grunts, “come on my cock ner jetii.”

His words and his gloved thumb brushing over your bundle of nerves has you falling apart around him. White hot pleasure rolls over you, leaving you a limp, moaning mess in Wolffe’s arms.

“That’s it, mesh’la. Squeezing me so kriffing tight,” he groans, hips stuttering, his own release fast approaching. “Fuck.” Wolffe manages a few more thrusts before he buries himself in you, spilling himself inside you. Whispered praises fall from his lips as he comes down from his own high. His lips ghost over yours in a chaste kiss as he withdraws, tucking himself away before he lets you down.

Your legs cry out in relief when they meet solid ground, not longer clinging to Wolffe for support.

“Good, cyare?” his hand sweeps over your brow, so tender for a man with such a fierce reputation, even amongst his brothers.

“Mhmm,” leaning into his touch, he chuckles at your blissed out expression.

“Someone’s bound to come looking for you soon, General. Let’s get you cleaned up.” You don’t protest as he helps you redress, though you do moan about how unfair it was he just had to remove his codpiece and you had to strip completely out of your robes for these little storage closet rendezvous’.

“I don’t think jedi robes were designed to allow for easy access, cyare.”

You pout, “you’re probably right.” There was that whole bit about no attachments you were blatantly ignoring after all.

Before the commander can come back with another sharp retort your commlink blinks to life. “Yes?”

_“General, General Plo is looking for you on the bridge.”_

You sigh, “thank you, Sinker. I’ll be right there.”

Never enough time.

The next couple of months continue much the same. You and Wolffe sneaking away between missions when you can, trying to find solace in each other despite all the horrors you both see on the battlefield. In a war that seems to stretch on forever he is your rock. As he watches his brothers fall, one after the other, you are his comfort. It breaks your heart to be apart from him but there is little you can do to control it. When the council requests you to join Obi-wan and Anakin for a series of missions you cannot object. Instead, you drag your tired self out to the far reaches of the outer rim to help them as best you can.

“You look exhausted, my dear.” Such tact this one possessed.

You roll your eyes, “you don’t look much better, Kenobi.” Though you doubt he has been waking in the middle of the night to empty the contents of his stomach like you have for the past week.

“This war does seem to be pushing us all to our limits.”

“I’ll race you!” Ahsoka sprints by, apparently headed for some target or another with her master hot on her heels.

“Snips!”

Cody chuckles under his bucket, shaking his head as the two disappear into the distance.

Obi-Wan scrubs a hand over his face, “it’s pushed most of us to our limits.”

“What I wouldn’t give to have the energy of a padawan again,” you groan.

“I agree wholeheartedly,” Obi-wan nods, “we should all try to get some rest while we can. We need to break camp near dawn.”

You agree and bid your fellow jedi an early goodnight. With the headache you could feel coming on, sleep sounded like a good idea. As you go to stand the world spins around you, any sense of balance you had gone. You reach for the crate you had been sitting on to try and stay upright but you miss by a mile. Knees giving out you collapse to the floor, the world around you still spinning. You can barely hear Cody shouting over the ringing in your ears.

“Call for a medic! The General’s collapsed!”

By the time you regain consciousness you’re no longer planet side. Obi-wan had been quick to have you medevacked to the closest med-station for testing. The unholy white lights of the station burn your eyes when you finally come to. Your sudden groaning draws Kix back to your bedside.

“General. Good to see you’re back with us.”

“Kix?” You try to focus on the 501st medic instead of the bright lights, “what happened?”

“You collapsed back at the forward camp. We weren’t able to determine what was wrong with the limited medical supplies we had on hand, so General Kenobi called an air lift for you.”

Another groan bubbles up, Obi-wan had been forced to waster precious resources on you. “Were you able to find out what’s wrong?”

The clone’s face falls, “yes.”

You’ve never heard the medic sound so meek before. “Kix?”

“I’m not sure what’s the best way to explain this, General… but you’re pregnant.”

Oh.

_Oh._

“H-how far along?”

“Looks like just over two months,” Kix shifts from foot to foot, pointedly not looking you in the eye. You can’t blame him for being uncomfortable, this isn’t quite the medicine he’d been expecting to practice. He was a combat medic not an obgyn. “We were able to get an ultrasound, would you like to see?”

Nodding, you sit up, your head now spinning for completely different reasons. Kix brings you a datapad displaying the grainy black and white image.

“Kix… am I seeing this right?”

“Yes, general.”

“There’s two…”

“Yes general. You’re having twins.”

Oh fuck.

Kix is a godsend, having worked with Anakin and Rex long enough to know reporting everything may not always be a good idea. The official report on your sudden collapse reads that you suffered from a foreign infection your body had not been prepared to fight, coupled with the battle fatigue, your body had shut down in order to force you to rest. Obi-wan and the council believe it, ordering you back to Coruscant to recover and rest. You knew you would have to tell them; it would not be long until you were showing, but you would much rather deal with the council in person than from your medbay bed.

Before your escort arrives, Kix slips you a disk with a copy of the ultrasound pictures, “in case there’s someone you want to show them to.”

“Thank you, Kix,” he blushes when you give him a quick peck on the cheek, “you’ve done more for me than you’ll ever know.”

You do your best to rest on your trip back to Coruscant but its incredibly difficult when your mind is going a parsec a minute. Besides the council there’s one other person you have to break the news to. While you two had talked about what life would be like for the two of you after the war, this was not something you had discussed. You were not sure if Wolffe wanted kids ever, let alone now. Having twins while the whole galaxy was at war was not ideal. Not when the two of you were expected to put your lives on the line for the Republic.

Panic washes over you when you arrive at the capital to find the wolfpack waiting for you on the tarmac. They’d just arrived back for some long overdue shore leave and Plo had informed them of your sudden illness. Normally you would be touched by how much they cared for you, but now all you can think about is how you are not ready to face Wolffe. Not yet.

You can feel his gaze heavy on your back as you field Sinker and Boost’s barrage of questions.

“I’ll be alright, I just need to take my medicine and get some rest. It shouldn’t be long before I’m right as rain again.” You hate lying to them, but you did not want them worrying unnecessarily either.

It seems to appease them; the pack wishes you well and invites you out to 79’s with them as soon as you’re recovered. Wolffe hangs back, watching his brothers go.

“I’ll walk you back, general.”

“No.” It comes out much harsher than you’d like. The surprise that washes over his face feels like a stab to your gut. “There’s no need, Commander. I’ll be alright.”

His voice drops, brow furrowed together, “cyare?”

“Not now, Wolffe,” you frown, “I just need to go lay down. We’ll talk later.”

But you don’t. You cannot find it in yourself to answer any of his calls or messages over the next few days. Instead, you wrap yourself up in as many blankets as possible and hole up in your quarters while you try to figure out what to do. You watch Coruscant go by from your window. It’s only when Sinker and Boost call that you’re freed from running around in circle inside your head.

“Boost? Sinker? What’s going on?”

_“Oh thank goodness you’re alive, General!”_

“Boost what are you going on about?”

_“The Commanders been going crazy! He hasn’t heard from you in over a week and we don’t think he knows how to handle it!”_

Although you and Wolffe did your best to keep your relationship hidden, in such tight quarters it was hard to keep it from Wolffe’s brothers. You’d never outright admitted it to them, but you figured they understood what was going on. You were glad for it now.

 _“I’ve seen him pace before, but never like this,”_ Sinker adds.

Oh Maker. “Where is he?”

_“The barracks, General.”_

“I… I’ll speak with him, alright? Hopefully that will calm him down.”

 _“Thank you, General! We were running out of ways to distract him!”_ That was the kind way of saying ways to annoy him to keep Wolffe’s mind off you.

“Thank you, Boost, Sinker.”

_“Good luck, General!”_

You were going to need it. This was not a conversation to have over the com so you make your way down to the barracks, doing your best to avoid attention when you can. It was not like you weren’t allowed there, but the last thing you needed was more questions.

Boost and Sinker were not lying about the pacing. Punching in the access code to his quarters reveals a tightly wound Wolffe, pacing back and forth across the length if the tight space. His armor has been haphazardly discarded around the room. You’re surprised he hasn’t worn a path into the floor yet.

“General?” Surprise and then relief fall over his face when he catches you standing in the doorway.

“Wolffe, I-”

“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be resting.”

You’re thrown off by the sudden cold tone in his voice. “I-I came to explain, Wolffe… to apologize.”

“Apologize?”

“I’ve been avoiding you Wolffe,” your voice cracks despite your best efforts to remain calm, “and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have, I just needed to find a way to tell you and I couldn’t.”

His frown deepens, “tell me what?”

“That I’m pregnant.”

“What?” He looks at you live you’ve grown another head.

“I’m pregnant, Wolffe.”

It takes him a moment to wrap his mind around your words, but you can see the instant he does, his mouth dropping into an ‘o’ as his jaw falls slack.

“You’re pregnant? With my… with my baby?”

“Babies,” you correct.

His brain seems to sputter out again, “babies?”

You nod, “twins.”

Before you can blink, he’s got you wrapped up in his arms, spinning you around the room. “Twins. You’re having twins.”

It takes everything you have not to start bawling. Kriffing hormones. You’ve never seen Wolffe this happy. This was beyond any reaction you could have imagined. The awe on his face when he sets you down makes your heart melt.

“This is why you were sent back? Your sudden illness?”

“Well yes… but Kix’s report was that I had an infection. I wanted to talk to your first before anyone else. I just didn’t know how.”

His warm hand oh-so-gently cups the side of your face. You lean into the touch. After even just a few weeks apart you’re starving for him.

“Why were you worried, cyare?”

“We’d never talked about kids. And we’re in the middle of a war. Not to mention we’re not even supposed to be together on the first place… I didn’t know how you’d react…”

His face softens, his amber eye drifting down to your nonexistent bump. “I’ll admit, I’m surprised. It may not be how either of us hoped, but it is a pleasant surprise.”

“Really?”

“Really, cyare.” You cannot help but smile as he pulls you in for a kiss. His lips slanting against your own as he holds you close. “I know there may be somethings we need to work out, but we’ll take it one step at a time,” he murmurs against your lips, hands tracing patterns across your back. “We’ll figure it out together.”


	2. Chapter 2

Not only were you blessed with the best clone commander in the GAR but you had been blessed with the best master and mentor in the Jedi order. As your training progressed you found your bond with him went beyond master and padawan. He was your friend and confidant, always by your side as you grew into the jedi knight you were today. There had been times you found yourself thinking of him of more a fatherly figure in your life than a teacher. Someone who not only schooled you on lightsaber techniques but who helped to guide you through life and was beaming with pride when you succeeded. It was only natural he was the next person you told after you sprung the news on Wolffe.

When it came to you, Plo was sharp, beyond intuitive. He was not at all surprised by your relationship with his battalion commander, but you could sense the pure, bright joy fill his force signature as you broke the news of your soon to be little ones.

“You understand the consequences Wolffe could face if your fraternization is discovered?”

Wolffe nods, face solemn. You had both known there was a risk in being together and Wolffe was the one with much more on the line. The senate and GAR saw the clones as disposable. He would be the one punished, not the jedi general. Though, you were sure the Order would find a way to punish you as well for developing a forbidden attachment.

“Then we must do everything to make sure that does not happen,” your Master concludes.

It hurt you dearly to lie to the Council, to deny Wolffe’s place in your life, but Plo Koon stood by your side, his taloned hand securely on your shoulder, never wavering as you spun your story. Jedi were not forbidden from sexual relations; it was the accompanying attachment that was not allowed. So, a one-night stand on shore leave in order to blow off steam in the midst of a never ending war was well within your rights. The Council could not punish you for that or your happy accident. A number of the masters actually looked pleased, probably thrilled at the strong possibility of two more force sensitive children to join the Order. It would be an inconvenience though for you to be out of service until after the babies were born. You would be reassigned to coordinating intelligence at the temple for as long as you could still be on your feet. With losses still high the Order was spread thinner and thinner, even pregnant they could not spare you.

It worried Wolffe more than you would have thought that you were working at all. He always treated you as an equal, more than capable of holding your own, on or off the battlefield, yet as time went on, and particularly when your bump started to come in, he began to fret over you like a mother hen. You knew he was protective, and that instinct had been dialed up to eleven with your condition. If he had his way you would be on bedrest for the next seven months, safe and tucked away. But that wasn’t practical. You both knew it. The war around you would not stop raging simply because you had two little bundles of life growing in you.

Your former Master did his best to keep Wolffe on Coruscant, understanding his need to be near you, but there was a limit to how long Wolffe could be kept from the battlefield. When he was away Wolffe and the rest of the pack (who were as equally invested in your little ones) would check in daily, always anxious for news. How big were they now? Did you have more pictures to send? Had you felt any kicking yet? You were content just to hear his voice on the other end of the line.

When the 104th was on planet, Wolffe was by your side every moment he could be. The two of you used every excuse in the book to explain it away. Plo assigned Wolffe as your protective escort every time you left the temple. His own way of helping get Wolffe to your doctors’ appointments without anyone catching on. There were times you though Plo had planned more of this out than you had.

Although Wolffe had to put up a shield of indifference to it all, to you, for the world to see, you could feel the joy, the pride, and the love he radiated. There was never a moment for you to doubt he wanted this. Wanted you. Even on the days you couldn’t keep any food down, when your ankles would swell and you needed help just to get out of bed, or when you broke down in tears, frustrated beyond belief that nothing you owned fit anymore. You could still feel his glowing signature as he gathered you up in his arms, cradling you and your future as close as he could, for as long as he could.

Without fail your time together would end and he would be called back to the front. Leaving you with the memory of his lips ghosting over the swell of your belly as he bid all three of you goodbye. Words whispered in mando’a, a secret language between him and the little ones you were not privy to. A promise he would be home soon.


End file.
